


Say It Yourself

by drarryangels



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentioned Molly Weasley - Freeform, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Suicide, One Shot, Short, Suicidal Thoughts, mention of rape, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-16 22:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15446994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryangels/pseuds/drarryangels
Summary: Draco is called to visit his father after the war, and things go horribly wrong.





	Say It Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> This was written on whim, so I'm sorry for any mistakes, and I'm terrible at summaries, but I hope you enjoy!

It had been three months, two days, three hours, and 56 minutes since he had last seen Draco. It felt like it had been forever.  
Lucius had been put on a permanent house arrest rather than a life long term in Azkaban, thanks to Harry. He had thought it would help Draco. Make things easier for him. He hadn’t known then. He’d had no idea.  
Narcissa had moved out the second Lucius had moved back in to the old Malfoy Manor. She had gone to France and settled down, making Draco promise that he would come visit her at least once a month for tea. Draco brought Harry along one time on a whim and had never looked back. Harry and Narcissa had gotten along famously, and Draco continued to bring Harry to the monthly tea meetings.  
But then Lucius had Flooed, requesting that Draco come spend the week with him.  
And Draco. Poor Draco, had given in, always too afraid of his father to refuse.  
And a week had come and gone.  
Harry wrote Draco every single day because “that’s what friends do.” And Draco told Harry every single day that everything was fine, and that he might be staying a bit longer than originally planned. He had said that at the end of every week, until the point where he had just stopped writing, and Harry received letters with “failed to send” stamped on the front of every single envelope he sent to the Malfoy Manor.  
And he did nothing. If Draco had said it was okay, then it was okay. And yet, Harry didn’t sit on the couch anymore. That’s where Draco had fallen asleep leaning up against him for the first time on New Year’s after watching a third rerun of Mean Girls. Draco loved that movie. And Harry ate less, worrying about Draco. When Draco had heard that Harry had been forced to cook and clean by the Dursley’s when he was a kid, he had kicked Harry out of the kitchen and taught himself to cook. And he actually got really good at it. Harry cared less about the food, and more about the absent-minded smile on Draco’s face when Harry complimented whatever he’d made. Because that’s what roommates do. And Harry didn’t sleep anymore because if he had one more dream about Draco screaming for his help and him not responding, he might actually go insane.  
But he did nothing.  
Until Narcissa Apparated into Draco’s and his apartment and stood there for a moment before bursting into tears.  
“Harry,” she had said. “He won’t answer any of my letters. I don’t know if he’s okay. Do you know where he is?”  
And Harry had said without hesitating, “What happened to him?”  
“He stopped answering his letters, so I wrote Lucius. He said that Draco had wanted to travel, and had left. I thought that he might be here, but you were sitting here alone. And the look on your face. I could just tell. He hasn’t been here in a while.”  
And Harry’s vision titled and he was stumbling around looking for his shoes.  
“I’m going to the Manor,” Harry said, and Narcissa sat on the couch where Harry would usually watch Draco’s head rest, and collapsed.  
Harry knocked on the door with a certainty that he didn’t feel. It was cold, and wet, and rainy. And gray. It was so gray. Harry’s heart stung with the thought of a young Draco growing up here.  
When the door opened, a very drunk Lucius Malfoy turned him away.  
And Harry ran. From Muggle town, to city, to purely Wizarding villages. He went from place to place, working from what was closest to the Manor, to what was farther away. He got sick everytime he walked into a place and Draco was not there.  
It had been four months, sixteen days, seven hours, and 12 seconds when Harry saw a glimpse of white blonde hair flashing through a crowd at a bar.  
Harry followed him desperately. His stomach churned violently. All he wanted was to see Draco again. Make sure he was okay. Safe. At home. He wanted to call out to Draco so badly, but his lungs wouldn’t fill and his mouth wouldn’t open. And so he chased after him as Draco climbed steadily through hidden stairwells littered with people passed out and the stench of smoke.  
And when Harry finally got to the door to the roof, all Harry could think was that Draco was here. So close. His heart thumped in his chest, calling out for this other boy.  
“Draco,” Harry’s voice broke and whispered.  
And there Draco stood. Harry’s heart stopped dead in his chest. Silky strands of hair waved gently in a slight breeze as if mockingly. Eyes the color of the moon, reflecting off pure pain. And he was wearing beat up clothes. And he was standing there. On the edge of the roof. Looking dead on at Harry, and not moving a muscle.  
Harry leaned his weight forward a bit, and Draco spoke.  
“Don’t come near me,” he whispered.  
“Draco...” Harry rasped.  
“Harry.”  
Draco smiled a bit and leaned backwards slightly. Just a tiny bit closer to death.  
The stars spun around Harry in dizziness and all he could see were Draco’s eyes like moonlight, and the trembling bones of a 20 year old kid.  
“Draco,” Harry whispered. “Don’t fall.”  
“I already have,” Draco said quietly. “The dragon fell from the sky.”  
“No,” Harry’s voice cracked. “No he didn’t. Come down. Talk to me.”  
“I can’t.”  
“Draco…. I need you here. Please come down.”  
“You don’t know what I’ve done.”  
Harry knelt slowly to the ground in a gesture to beg Draco to come down.  
“Please, Draco. I know you. I’ve known you since we were eleven years old. And we’ve been friends since after the war. Remember? You told me all the stories you could remember about growing up in the Malfoy Manor. And we’re roommates. Right? And-” Harry choked and looked down at his hands. “Draco. I know you. And if I don’t know what you’ve done, tell me. Because all I want is to know you.”  
“So that you can shame and judge me?”  
“No, Draco. Not ever. So that I can love you.”  
There was several minutes of stifled silence before a light footfall sounded on cement. Harry’s head snapped up to see Draco standing in front of him. No longer on the edge. Right in front of him.  
Draco swayed like he might fall over and Harry leapt up in a split second to steady him. Harry put his hands lightly on Draco’s shoulders, and held him gently for a second.  
And with one, heart wrenching sob, Draco careened forward into Harry, holding and clutching him for dear life. And in that moment, a breath that Harry didn’t know he was holding released, and the world relaxed for an instant in relief. His heart beat again, and he wrapped his arms around Draco carefully and pulled him in tightly. Hugged him so hard, his arms went numb. A blonde head tipped forward and settled on Harry’s shoulder, shaking with fear.  
“Harry. I…. I was at the house….and….it all came back…. everything from when I was young….all the pain….the hurt…..the darkness. I didn’t…...didn’t want to burden you…...I thought it would be better to stay away….I fell into it…. It was just one time….I was at a bar….and some girl put…..in my drink…. I don’t remember much…..it happened a couple times…..I couldn’t get up…..”  
“Draco,” Harry sighed, equal parts horrified, and relieved that he was holding Draco. Really holding him in his arms. “Oh, Draco.”  
“They….made a list of all the people…...who touched me….to remind me....”  
Draco snuck a hand into his pocket and pulled a crumpled piece of paper out slowly. Harry snatched it away from his hands and ripped it open. Nine names. Nine people touching Draco. Taking advantage of him. Hurting him.  
“Don’t look for them,” Draco said quietly, turning his head to press his face into the crook of Harry’s neck.  
Harry couldn’t even argue. All he cared about was Draco. And that Draco was tangible, and real, and alive, and curled up into his side. Harry skimmed a gentle hand over Draco’s tangled hair and clutched him closely to his body.  
“Draco?”  
“Yes?” A shaky voice emerged.  
“Please never do that again. I know that sometimes it seems so dark that there’s no way out, and that you’ve made too many mistakes to continue on with your life. But, look at me.”  
Silver eyes lifted slowly to meet green ones.  
“Things may not be okay right now. And life isn’t perfect. It’s never going to be. But I want to make it better for you. I’ll distract you when you’re down, I’ll sing to you when you cry, I’ll hug you when you feel alone, I’ll brush your hair when you feel self conscious. I’ll be there to help, even if it’s only for a second. Or if it’s better, I’ll leave you alone. Just… don’t die. Please. I can’t…. I don’t want to live without you.”  
Draco’s thumb reached up carefully and gently brushed away a tear from Harry’s cheek.  
“Why?” he asked quietly.  
Harry looked at him in exasperation and he rolled his eyes.  
“Why do you think?” he said with a smile.  
Draco looked at Harry searchingly for a moment before the corner of his mouth hesitantly tilted up in a small smirk.  
“I want to hear you say it yourself,” Draco said with a slight smirk.  
Harry’s arms tightened around Draco for a split second and the air constricted around them, Apparating them both back to their apartment.  
Harry pulled Draco over to the couch where they flopped down side by side.  
“I’m just glad you’re safe,” Harry said, looking over at Draco.  
Draco hummed a bit in response, but didn’t take his eyes off Harry. In a split second decision, Draco leaned closer to Harry.  
“Say it yourself,” he whispered, slowly leaning closer and closer until he was nearly laying completely on top of Harry.  
Harry’s eyes widened and he swallowed before whispering, “I love you, git.”  
Draco grinned and swiftly pressed his lips against Harry’s. Instantly, it was like fire had been lit in their bodies. It was desperate, and yet slow and full of wanting. Speaking of years of grief, anger, pain, and newfound hope and peace.  
When they broke apart with Draco resting on top of Harry, the two of them sprawled over the couch, Draco grinned lopsidedly and said, “I love you, too.”  
Draco curled against Harry’s side, and as the sky got lighter through the windows, the two of them fell asleep, limbs tangled and hair sticking up in all different directions.  
They would deal with the consequences of Draco’s absence another day, but they didn’t think about that. Nor did they think about what would happen when Narcissa Black walked through the apartment’s fireplace the next day. They didn’t need to worry, though. She took one look at the two of them, leaned over to kiss both their cheeks, and then left without a word. She never mentioned it to them, even years after “Say it yourself,” and “I love you, git” were said with brilliant smiles at their wedding. Even years after Teddy and James reenacted the Malfoy-Potter wedding scene teasingly, Teddy transforming into a perfect Draco, and James looking like a carbon copy of Harry, but with silver eyes. Even years after Scorpius and Albus were born, and the family was complete with their family owl, Donald. After all of that time and happiness, Narcissa said nothing and enjoyed being co-grandma with Molly Weasley and doting on the whole spill of the family she had been pulled into. She didn’t mind a bit.


End file.
